Square One
by Bodmin
Summary: S6E8: This story starts when DM is leaving the hospital after operating on his wife.
1. Chapter 1

_There are a lot of good stories around already starting with the end of S6. I hope you don't mind me adding my own take on the events following Louisa's operation._

 _I started writing this story immediately after the end of S6, but being busy with my other two stories I didn't publish it yet. So the story is not influenced at all by any information leaking out from the shooting of S7. The whole story is only a product of my imagination._

 _I thank Buffalo Pictures for the inspiration and for creating such interesting characters. All characters and places are owned by Buffalo Pictures._

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Chapter 1

Martin left the hospital in a hurry. Today's events were getting to him and he was on the verge of losing his composure. He didn't necessarily need an audience for that.

His head was buzzing and he had to find a way and a place to get his thoughts into an order that actually made sense.

He hardly noticed the nurses and doctors hurrying around. He'd had years of practise ignoring them and could find his way in and about a hospital blindfolded if necessary. It was also no problem for him to blend out the noises, announcements and discussions around him.

The surroundings actually helped him to get into a mind tunnel, shutting all impressions out.

At first he didn't even notice when his name was shouted behind him. Only when the caller was almost caught up to him, Martin realised an angry voice shouting "DR. ELLINGHAM!"

He briefly considered stopping to turn around, but then decided against it. He simply moved on, wanting nothing more than to be alone.

However, it was of no use, as the person chasing him was equally used to having his instruction followed as Martin was. The assistant medical director of Truro hospital grabbed Martin's arm shortly before he had made it outside.

"Sir, may I inquire what you were thinking in locking one of my surgeons in a cupboard and performing an operation without being authorised?!" The senior physician bellowed. He was at least half a foot shorter than Martin and slightly younger, but almost as commanding.

Martin paused just for a moment, but knew immediately that he had to hold his ground quickly, or otherwise his battle would be lost. He pulled himself together, squared his shoulders and replied sternly: "I guess the question is why you hired an imbecile like Westmore in the first place. He might be competent enough to patch a paw of his favourite Teddy bear, but that doesn't qualify him to butcher human beings."

"He was a good enough surgeon before you turned up."

"Good enough for what? Actually, he didn't give an impression of being good enough to operate on my wife!"

"Ah, that's the rub. You know that if anything, this information makes the whole matter worse. I will report you, of course."

Martin gulped. That was to be expected, presumably, but he hadn't really realised the kind of trouble he was in until now.

"You know that you are risking an assessment of the competence of your surgeon boy that way?" Martin replied.

"I'll take that risk." His opponent retorted dryly. "I have every confidence in the competence of my staff."

"Sure you have." Martin smirked. "At least I hope your staff will be competent enough to keep my wife alive until she's released this afternoon."

"Ah, about that. Not to take any risks and considering the recent car accident your wife had been involved in I guess it's safer to keep her here over night. Just to check on her. To be on the safe side. Wouldn't you agree, Dr. Ellingham? We don't want anything happening to her." The doctor could hardly hide his satisfaction.

Martin looked quietly at this other man who was responsible for his wife's welfare right now. Even if he didn't like it, he had to agree that it was a reasonable suggestion. Besides, it would give him a bit more time to clear his head.

"Good." Martin finally said. "But make sure your negligent staff keeps an eye on the thrombosis risk, turns her regularly, keeps her hydrated…" Martin was interrupted sharply.

"Thank you very much, but we know the routine. I suggest you head home and we'll contact you as soon as you can pick up your wife. In the meantime, I don't want to hear or see anything from you. Understood?"

"Hm." Martin cocked his head. He knew when he was defeated, and he had brought himself into serious trouble in taking charge. However, he would have done it again. It had been necessary to save his wife's life. He was sure of that.

Martin rushed to the car park only to remember that he didn't have his car with him. He had no clue how to get back. He could have taken a taxi, but the drivers had the uncanny knack to keep talking.

His head couldn't process any more information. He snapped his smart phone out and googled for the nearest hotels. He scrolled through the hotels in Truro just to feel that he positively wouldn't be able to stay in any of these. Hotel rooms always make you feel a bit homeless, and he wouldn't be able to cope with a feeling like that on top of things.

Next he googled for the train connections, but he realised soon enough that it wouldn't help much to get to Bodmin Parkway. He would have to call Ruth to pick him up. He also wasn't up to that encounter.

The next thought was to find a rental car. That didn't prove to be too difficult.

So he walked to the nearest pick up station and soon he was alone in a car on the way to Portwenn.

The car wasn't at all what he was used to. It was of minor quality but the only thing he could get on short notice.

He just had the urge to get home, ASAP. He needed the sanctuary of his consulting room to finally release his pressure.

He was speeding over Bodmin Moor when suddenly a creaking sound followed by a loud bang didn't imply anything good. He stopped the car to find that the exhaust had fallen off and was lying on the road as a bleak contrast of the civilised world to rough nature. He didn't have the strength anymore to cope with the next blow. He gave the vehicle a good kick, sending the indicator to the ground, and then sat down behind the wheel of the immobile automobile. He stared in front of him, in the direction of his destination.

Hours later he realised he must have started to cry.

With the rising sun he was awoken by a vehicle blowing its horn. He was startled and sat bold upright, by reflex he said. "Good morning, James.", but when he looked for a child seat, he found none.

It was then that he remembered the wild dream he had. Not really a dream. Psychedelic images floating in his mind. An angel telling the moon it had a nice face. Mountains of snow with waterfalls of blood. A smiling child in the clutches of a witch.

Martin ran his hand over his face and over his neck. He couldn't stay like this any longer. He had to start doing something.

He got his mobile out, hoping to contact a taxi or at least the rental car company. His bad luck held on, as he noticed that the batteries were empty.

"Gosh, will this never end?" He noticed he wasn't even angry anymore. He was sad and frustrated and lonely and he felt guilty, but he wasn't angry.

He shortly mulled over his options, but only one was really practical. So he got out of the car and locked it carefully. Out of habit, as no thief with an ounce of self-respect would touch a wreck like this, and anyway, no one could possibly move it.

Then he started hiking to Portwenn.

A glance at his watch gave him hope he could manage to get upstairs before his receptionist arrived.

He covered the ground quickly. While walking, he assessed his situation. He had often thought in his life that he had reached his lowest point, but somehow he had always managed to drop lower still.

So had he really reached rock bottom now? There must be a point when it couldn't get any worse. Or was being miserable not something that approached zero asymptotically but a steep drop ad infinitum?

What more could happen to him than to lose his family? He had even lost his ability to function properly as a doctor, considering his performance yesterday. He didn't ask for much. He didn't even ask for happiness. But why couldn't he find a stable level which allowed him at least a content existence?

Portwenn came in sight as it started to drizzle. He put his collar up and tried to dug his hands into his pockets, but he couldn't get his right hand in.

There it was. James' toy left behind on the stairs. Martin stood nailed to the spot staring at the yellow fluff in his hand and tears started streaming down his cheeks. He stood there until the rain had progressed into a proper downpour.

Soaked, he made his way downhill.

Finally he reached his cottage twenty past eight. He should just have enough time to get upstairs unnoticed. He didn't know yet what he would do about his patients, though.

He turned the key, slipped inside and looked around. The reception was empty, as was the waiting room.

He tackled the stairs, but after only three steps, Morwenna was coming out of his consulting room.

 _To be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Doctor Ellingham?" Morwenna stopped her employer.

"Uhm...yes."

"How is Louisa? We heard from Penhale. Will she be fine?"

"Yes", Martin replied curtly.

Morwenna came a couple of steps closer.

"Are _you_ alright?" She looked seriously concerned when she asked him in soft voice.

"Fine, I'm..." Martin choked on his words "...fine."

"Is just, I've noticed you examined yourself. Nothing serious?"

Martin turned around as this inquisition seemed to have no end and he had to make it stop.

"If I will ever have to close the surgery for a couple of days for health issues, I will let you know as soon as I can, otherwise it's.."

"...none of my businesses." Morwenna finished the sentence in unison with Martin. "Yeah, I know." She sighed and turned to walk towards the reception desk. Now was the chance to make it upstairs, he thought.

However, Morwenna was persistent this morning. Rude bugger her boss might be, but at least he had given her a chance to work for longer than just two days at the same job. She also appreciated how he trusted her and that he had instructed her without batting an eyelid to do CPR on Caroline, assuming she could do it. She felt he treated her seriously, like an adult, not like an obnoxious child as some had done. Consequently, she had grown quite fond of Martin and felt for him.

"Oh, Doc." Morwenna looked at her boss with her big eyes. "I know it's probably none of my businesses - but why did you let Louisa go?"

"I didn't _let her go_ , she _chose_ to go on holiday. And you're right, it is…"

"...none of my business." She finished before he could. "It's just, she was only waiting for a word from you. _One word_ and she would have stayed. Ya know?"

"No." Martin looked down and he had to pull himself together as not to start crying in front of his employee.

"Sure thing. It was obvious. She hated to leave. Why couldn't you have said something? Just ' _Don't go_ ' would have done it. That's not so difficult to say."

Martin cleared his throat.

"Sometimes I simply don't understand you. You're such a clever man, but then sometimes you just don't get it." Morwenna kept going on.

Martin carefully took the next two steps. It wasn't far to the sanctuary of their... no, _his_...bedroom, but somehow he didn't seem to make it.

"Oh, and Doc." Morwenna shouted up the stairs.

"Yes?" He replied rather brusquely.

"Just in case you might have doubts. I mean, I know it's none of my business and probably you don't have any - well, just in case you _might_ have any doubts - your wife loves you. Very much." Martin stood nailed to the spot. He didn't dare to turn around, as he was welling up. At first he also didn't dare to speak as he was sure his voice would be cracking.

"What?" He finally managed.

"Your wife loves you." Morwenna repeated softly and insistently.

"Why do you say that?"

"The way she looked at you when she left. It's obvious. And even though you're mad at me now, it's quite obvious that you also love her. Madly." Martin had his head turned sideways and could see from the corners of his eyes that Morwenna was shaking her head while going over to her desk, starting to sort the mail.

"I just don't get it why you are making it so difficult for both of you, especially as your son is torn in the middle. Poor tyke." Morwenna rather talked to herself now.

"James!" Martin straightened up and rushed down the few steps of the stairs. He had completely forgotten about him. If he was still with Ruth, she'd probably had a breakdown by now.

"Where are you going, Doc?" Morwenna shouted after Martin.

"James. I've got to get James!" Martin answered excitedly.

Morwenna hurried back to block his way.

"I wouldn't go there now if I were you." Morwenna told her boss with a smile.

"You're not." Martin tried to push past her.

"Thank God I'm not." Morwenna crossed the line of Martin's authority once again in touching his arm. "I'd say you'd better shave and have a shower before going into the village. You know how the gossip can spread like the plague. In the meantime I inform your aunt that you'll pick James up within the next hour. And then I will cancel all appointments for the rest of the week. I'd say you have more important things on your mind right now. If you need me, I'll be right down here."

Morwenna nodded into the direction of the stairs. "Off you go."

Dr. Ellingham ran his hand over his face and had to agree that he had been fresher before.

"Morewenna." He started serenely.

"I know – none of my business."

Martin gulped. He had to concentrate. He had to force himself with all his willpower, but he was determined to say it.

"Thank you."

He quickly ascended the stairs to avoid having to face Morwenna's response.

 _To be continued…_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

After the shower and the shave he felt at least a bit better. He felt at least civilised. He just had to change into a new suit and everything would be better. While fishing for the right suit, he started rummaging through his coat pockets. He was looking for something.

He remembered that he had slid it into his coat pocket, he just couldn't remember which suit. He turned all of his pockets inside-out, but couldn't find it.

He sighed. He must have thrown it away.

A couple of weeks ago it seemed right to throw it away. He would have never considered going to a therapist ever again. The latest short encounter with Dr. Milligan was enough to last a lifetime. He hadn't been too keen on a repeat, not even when Aunt Ruth had recommended the therapist.

Things had changed now. Everything had changed during the last two days.

No. That wasn't true. The last two days were just the climax of what had been building up for quite some time. When exactly did the problems start? Martin couldn't put a finger on it. He just knew that on his wedding day he was feeling good and he had really looked forward to their honeymoon. It seemed that night everything started to go wrong. Not only the lodge, which could have been expected when Bert had something to do with it. Still, who could expect that the first person they ran into was barking. Well, in Cornwall he should have expected it. Here everything was possible. Still, even here few people were as mad as that hermit in his caravan. More importantly, even here most people had a phone.

However, he still couldn't fathom why Louisa and he had ended up amicably after all that turmoil, but didn't succeed in the madness of normal life.

Wrong again. Louisa had succeeded. She'd done reasonably well. The question was why _he_ wasn't able to cope. And there was no second opinion on that. He certainly was in dangerous waters right now. Unfortunately, those waters had built into a wave that had hit Louisa, not him.

He sighed. There was just one thing he could do. He hated it. Thinking about it, it didn't matter anymore if he liked it or not.

Dressed in a fresh suit, he made his way downstairs. He paid attention that his appearance made a better impression than his shattered inner self, walking straight, looking confident. Nevertheless, he was glad to come downstairs to find the waiting room and the reception area empty. When he left the cottage, he noticed a sign on the door:

"The surgery is closed until further notice. In case of emergencies please contact the surgery in Wadebridge or the ambulance."

He nodded. Morwenna was really improving, turning out to be efficient without being obnoxious. This note was informative without giving any private details. Furthermore, it should give him time to start solving this muddle he had managed to get himself into. Good.

He rushed through the village, silencing everyone who questioned him – about Louisa, the state of their marriage, the closing of the surgery. He never understood the inquisitiveness of those villagers, and tolerated it even less. Whenever anyone darted towards him, he simply raised his hand, as if he were a policeman sorting out the traffic, and shushed them. He didn't even turn towards them. Their nosiness wasn't worth any attention.

As he was determined not to be interrupted, he soon reached Aunt Ruth's house. A female neighbour was pottering about her house.

While Martin waited for Ruth to answer the door, the woman shouted over to him.

"I heard Louisa's in hospital? Will she be OK?"

Martin flinched as another stranger intruded in his affairs, so he felt himself stiffen and was about to hiss through clenched teeth that it was none of her business, when Martin vaguely remembered that it was the same woman who had given him information on Ruth's whereabouts the day before.

Ruth had said that he had to change, and Louisa had always indicated that she expected him to be more civilised towards the villagers. He had to start somewhere, so he braced himself, breathed in deeply and then forced himself to answer.

"Louisa's doing well, under the circumstances. And…uh…thank you for the information you gave me yesterday. It was useful."

His voice had sounded strangely strangled, he realised, tense and not very convincing, but at least he had said it. He could say things like this when he tried. Tried hard.

The neighbour was taken aback, pausing for a moment, before she collected herself and replied a bit guarded: "Always happy to help."

"Hm." Martin cocked his head and turned around to find himself face to face with his aunt. Her lopsided grin told him that she had overheard the conversation, at least long enough to hear him thank her.

She gestured him to get inside, and when he entered she told him in low voice: "You'd better come in before you give any of my neighbours a heart attack."

"Why? What have I done now?!" Martin exclaimed frustrated.

"It's just, they're not used to you thanking anyone. A shock like that can easily kill someone." Ruth smirked.

Martin started to stutter his explanation. "It's just yesterday…when I was looking for you…she…this woman…"

"Yes, Martin. I know. Nothing stays unnoticed here for long. She told me that you were looking for me frantically and she told you that I'd probably be on the farm. And how you rushed away without another word. Tut-tut-tut. Where are your manners?"

"Hm."

"I understand, there were more important things on your mind. Come in and sit down." She grew more serious. "How is Louisa? I heard from Penhale that there was quite a dangerous situation. Will she be alright?"

Martin sank down onto the chair and sighed. "Yes. She will probably be fine. She's going to be released today."

"Good."

 _To be continued…_


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Ruth looked at her nephew. The formerly confident and self-assured man was but a shadow of his former self. He looked haggard and worn and his hand was slightly twitching. Before yesterday, she had never seen Martin in such a state. She had seen the whining baby and the shy and vulnerable toddler, but from then on he had seemed strong and composed and self sufficient. Until he had turned up at the farm yesterday, totally upset.

In the short time she had lived close to her nephew, Ruth had grown quite fond of Martin. When he had been little, she'd never had much to do with him. She had always found children quite irritating and was out of her depth around them. They were so irritatingly irrational.

It was even easier for her to find a motivation for someone murdering three of his wives than for a six-month-old's wailing and whining. As those irritating little creatures hardly reacted to human language at all, she was robbed of her most potent tool of handling difficult situations. No, children definitely had never been her strong suit, and as life and an awkward social disposition had spared her producing some herself, she had preferred to keep away from them as much as possible.

She had gladly left the caring to Joanie, who always had been the motherly type, even without having children of her own.

When Martin had been older, he had been a bit awkward and remote and she hadn't been particularly interested in him either, she had to admit. She had always excused herself because of her busy work schedule, but if she was being honest with herself, that wasn't the true reason. In fact she had never really been interested in her brother, his awful wife and anything about them, including Martin.

She had followed his career with certain interest, especially as he did the Ellingham-name proud for a long time. He seemed to take every hurdle with flying colours.

Until he stumbled, falling flat on his face.

Ruth had to admit that she had read Joan's descriptions of Martin's life down in Cornwall with lukewarm interest at best. Joan had quite a romantic streak, and instead of exploring why a gifted surgeon was stranded in the back-of-beyond, she had kept on about this love interest. Ruth had though that was pure wishful thinking on her sister's part, but in the long run reality had proven her right.

Ruth's interest in Martin had really been piqued, when she had confessed to him about her fear of her falsely self-diagnosed Lupus. She had sensed something in Martin she hadn't thought possible, something that made her ashamed as she had never reciprocated it herself.

Martin had honestly cared.

Their yearly phone calls had been their only contact, so she couldn't really claim he was a close relative. Still, even before he had corrected her diagnosis, she had been deeply touched by his question if there was anything he could do to help. It wasn't the question that had touched her, but the tone in his voice.

It was then that she had realised that there was more to her nephew than any other Ellingham she had encountered before. An urge to care.

Maybe this urge had manifested itself in his clinging to his family. He could have easily done what any other Ellingham in his situation would have done – write some cheques. The more she saw of Martin and his son, the more she got the impression that he genuinely wanted to be part of a family.

Knowing his background, she also knew that he had very little chance of knowing how to go about it.

That's why she had warned him not to marry Louisa. Ruth had feared it would a task too big for Martin. Unfortunately, right now it seemed he had proven her right. The worst thing about it was that he was really crushed by it.

Yesterday, sitting in the field with him, she had realised that he and this strange quaint village had changed her too. She also wasn't just interested in dissecting the reasons for human behaviour, but for the first time she really wanted to improve the life of someone in her care. This was her chance to help undo at least some of the damage she had allowed to be imposed on Martin in not intervening when he was little. This was a chance to repay him for her getting a new interest in life and not just grieving over the prospect of a false self-diagnosis.

Maybe doctors really shouldn't diagnose themselves, as even Martin had been on the completely wrong track when trying to get to the bottom of his feeling unwell, and Ruth had to admit that he was probably the best diagnostician she had ever come across.

 _To be continued…_


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"Can I offer you some breakfast?" Ruth asked Martin casually.

"Actually, I'm not hungry."

"Have you had breakfast already?"

"Uh, no."

"You're old enough and you're a doctor, so I don't need to tell you about the importance of regular meals. Some coffee maybe?"

"No, thanks. I just came to collect James."

"I thought you'd never offer to get the little bugger off my hands. How could you leave me alone with him over night? You know I'm not equipped for children."

"Long story." Martin sighed.

"I'd still be interested. Maybe a short version of it?"

"I didn't have my car in Truro, so I rented one. Obviously from the heap. It broke down on the moors. I had to hike back. Sorry about that." Martin had covered the events since yesterday quickly, as it helped him to focus on the facts, and not on him feeling rotten.

"You could have called. I would have picked you up."

"I couldn't call."

"Martin, if you really want to have a chance in living with anybody, especially with Louisa, you've got to learn to ask for help and accept it. You know you can always come to me?"

"The battery of the mobile was flat."

"I see. Then you really couldn't have called. Shame."

"So where's James?"

"As I said, I wasn't equipped, but Mrs. Tregellyn offered to put him up. She seemed to be more suited for the job."

"Ah, yes. Chronic back pain, four children, all of them seem reasonably healthy."

"Good to hear." Ruth smirked. "So she probably managed to handle my great-nephew for one night."

Martin got up abruptly.

"Where are you going?" Ruth asked a bit irritated.

"To pick up James."

"Sit, Martin. He is safe for the moment. I need a word with you."

Martin groaned.

"Stop moaning and sit." She nodded and waited until Martin had sat down. "Have you thought about what we talked about yesterday?"

"I didn't have much time."

"You know that you should be certain of what you want and how to proceed before you get Louisa home?"

"I was busy yesterday making sure that she can come home at all." Martin gulped.

"That close?"

"Malformation of a cerebral vein. Bleeding had already started. I was able to operate on her just in time to prevent any lasting damage."

" _You_ operated on her?" Ruth asked alarmed.

Martin hit his fist on the table. "Damn! The surgeon would have mucked it up. He was completely incompetent. I had to save her. I had to…"

Ruth fought her Ellingham ways of keeping her distance and put her hand on Martin's clenched fist.

"Of course you had to. And you did. You said she would be fine."

"The procedure was pretty straightforward."

"And now that you have given her a future, you've got to decide what to do with it."

Martin looked up. "Can you give me that contact again?"

Ruth whipped back in her chair. "The therapist's?"

"Yes."

"What happened to the first business card?"

"I seem to have mislaid it."

" _Mislaid?_ You haven't considered using it, that it?"

Martin nodded.

"And now you are?"

"I don't have much choice."

"Martin, you have every choice, and you already made your choice. You choose to move forward. I'll get you the number."

Ruth got up and rummaged in a drawer and produced the business card in question in no time. She tipped her finger on it before handing it to Martin. "He should suit you. He does mostly research nowadays, as he had been too analytical for many of his patients, but for you that should be right."

"Oh, goody." Martin groaned.

 _To be continued…_


	6. Chapter 6

_Last week series 7 started. Most of this story – and this chapter too – was written well before any news of S7 were published. I continue this story as I've originally planned, even when it doesn't fit with the way the TV show is developing. I hope you, dear reader, can bear with me._

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Chapter 6

Martin played with the card, rotating it in his hand. Ruth watched it for some time, then she leant back in her chair and looked straight at Martin.

"Out with it. How can I help?"

"What?"

"You're struggling to tell me something. I took a long shot assuming you might need my help for something. I'd be happy to help if I can."

"There is one thing more, actually." Martin kept playing with the business card. "Louisa had boarded the plane because she needed a break from me."

"My memory isn't deteriorating yet. You told me that already yesterday."

"With her risk of thrombosis and the recent brain haemorrhage she won't be able to fly for quite some time."

When Martin fell silent, Ruth prodded. "But that gives you a chance to work things out without her running away. That's the last thing you should be worrying about."

"No, if she needs space, I've got to give her space. I just don't know where to bring her but to the surgery. Her house is rented and the lease for the house she lived in before has been cancelled. She has no other place to go to."

"Because the surgery is now her home. You shouldn't worry about it." Ruth insisted.

"I would take her to family or friends." Martin continued as if he hadn't heard Ruth's comment, and in fact he hadn't really registered it. "But she hasn't got any family around, not that I know of anyway, and I've never been much interested in her friends. I suppose I should have, but I wasn't."

"Do you really think it would be better for her to stay with some stranger than with her family? And what about James Henry? Should he move too – cot and toys and all? I'd say, they'd be better staying at home together."

"I can't think of any other conclusion either."

"Good. The three of you under _one_ roof should help to get things sorted."

"No." Martin got up abruptly, turning round with his back towards Ruth, standing straight, right hand in a fist behind his back. "Louisa wouldn't want that." He stated lowly.

"Did you ask her?"

Martin turned around quickly, glowering at his aunt. "When was I supposed to do that? When she was sedated, ready to be operated on? Should I have told her then, that there wouldn't be a chance to get away from me?"

Ruth looked at her nephew calmly. She was grateful for the years of training she had in dealing with psychologically challenging situations. She tried to see the situation from a professional angle and tried to blend out that it was her nephew speaking, her nephew who had lifted her fears of an early and painful end brought on by Lupus. She knew she could help him most when seeing him as a psychological case.

"So you don't know for certain that she isn't prepared to stay with you, at least for her recovery."

"Getting on a plane to Spain is a rather clear indicator." Martin stated bluntly.

"I see your point, but maybe she'll see it differently now.

"This doesn't change anything." Martin echoed the short exchange he had with his wife in hospital after the operation.

"Saving her life won't change anything?"

"She probably won't remember who operated on her."

"But the hospital…"

"..would hardly be shouting it from the rooftops that they allowed an unauthorised, haemophobic surgeon into their operating theatre." Martin finished the sentence grimly, fully aware of the trouble he'd got himself in.

"You may have a point there, but surely Louisa has a right to know. You should tell her."

"Trying to blackmail her to stay, you mean?" Martin bellowed.

"Probably not. That wouldn't be the best of reasons to stay together." Ruth replied calmly. "But I still can't see what I can do to help you."

Martin breathed in deeply. "May I stay here? Just for a couple of weeks. Months, mostly. Just until I know where I stand. Until I have time…" Martin gulped, as he couldn't bring himself to voice his hopes that he might be able to solve this muddle that they have both ended up in, somehow.

"I don't think it's a good idea…" Ruth started, and was quickly interrupted by Martin.

"Good. Right. Then I've got to find some accommodation, ASAP." Martin turned on his heels and grabbed his mobile, just to be remembered again that it was dead. "Blast!"

"Stop, Martin, I just wanted to say that I don't think it's a good idea, but of course you can stay in my spare room for as long as you think is necessary. I'm family, after all." Ruth smirked.

Martin breathed in relieved. "Good. As soon as I get Louisa home, I'll bring some things over. Of course I've got to go there for work, but I hope Louisa wouldn't mind that."

"And what about James?" Ruth asked.

"Uh, I look after him during surgery hours. I suppose for the night I've got to get a nurse, helping Louisa. She won't be able to handle James all by herself after the injuries. Still, Louisa won't see too much of me, if I restrain myself to my consulting room."

"And that will solve the problem?" Ruth was still doubtful.

"At least it'll give Louisa some time away from me, and some time for me to work…on my problems." Martin looked truly beaten, partly because he still wasn't sure why he should be such a problem. "And I thought, living here would give me the opportunity to get some… _advice_ …from you. I mean, you're a psychiatrist…"

"Oh no, Martin! Sorry, but no! I cannot and will not treat a relative of mine. It's unethical and would probably be unsuccessful. Besides, I didn't give you the address of one of the most competent men I've seen in this field – beside me, of course – to interfere with his treatment in doing something else entirely behind his back. He wouldn't like that. I wouldn't, if I was him. Sorry, Martin, but that's something between you and your therapist."

Martin slumped down on the chair. "Oh, _goody_!"

 _To be continued…_


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

While his mobile was recharging at Ruth's place, Martin went over to Mrs. Tregellyn's house to fetch James Henry. The poor woman almost suffered a heart attack when Martin thanked her for looking after James.

"That's what neighbours are for." She mumbled.

"Ah." Martin nodded, not quite sure what to make of it. He checked his son over quickly, much to the annoyance of his emergency childminder.

"I didn't do him any harm, now did I?" The helpful neighbour grunted at Martin.

"No. No, it's fine. Nothing seems to be amiss."

"Because there is nothing wrong with him, at least nothing that I've got anything to with. If you want my advice, you should sort out some childcare. You can't keep handing him from one to the other. I bet I've seen this poor tyke with more bloody strangers than my Archie has been with all his life, and he's seventh grade now. And some of them minders were really dodgy, if you don't mind me sayin' so. Some I wouldn't let near my kids as long as I'm responsible for them, if you know what I mean."

"I am aware of that." Martin replied testily before heading for the door. The last thing he needed right now was good advice, especially when he couldn't deny that there was some truth in it.

"Give my love to Louisa!" Mrs. Tregellyn yelled after the fleeing Dr. Ellingham.

Martin took James back to Ruth's place. He prepared his son some mashed carrots and potatoes for lunch, then settled him on the couch in Ruth's living room for a nap.

Around 1pm Martin received a call from the hospital, that he could pick up his wife as she was about to be released.

When he was about to dash off to his surgery, he realised that his car couldn't possibly be there. The last time he had seen it, it had been opposite the school, near the shop. He padded his pockets for his car keys, but they also weren't there.

"Lost something?" His aunt asked quietly, observing her nephew from her comfortable seat in the lounge.

"Er…I can pick up Louisa, but I can't." He shook his head, realising that he didn't make much sense. "Uhm…I mean…I could, if I had my car."

"Oh, the one you left in the middle of the road, unattended?" Ruth specified.

"It can't be possibly still there." He mused.

"No, it can't."

"Uh…" Martin looked helplessly around, so his aunt informed him.

"Actually, Al took care of it. After you summoned Penhale from the party, word quickly spread that you had left the car in the middle of the road after crashing it."

"I _did not_ crash it!" Martin protested.

"Well, how would you describe a car that can't be manoeuvred anymore and is left blocking the street? That's the point. It was blocking the street, and Al realised that the ambulance for Caroline might be struggling to get through. So he called the garage to remove it."

"Good."

"I have no clue if they actually started repairing it, or if it's just sitting there. I wouldn't trust that it is already repaired."

"Uhm...uh...I need to get to the hospital. I'd better call them."

Martin called the garage just to find out that his car still wasn't in a state to be driven. He gave the mechanic a piece of his mind, but the man at the other end just hung up in the middle of Martin's rant.

"You really think that'll help you to have your car repaired quicker?" Ruth told him wistfully, raising an eyebrow.

"One should imagine it's in their own interest to have a GP who is actually mobile enough to get around if they do something stupid again, but no – they couldn't care less. Just when they need me and I'm not there in a tad, then they are complaining."

"When you have let off your steam, then maybe you should concentrate on getting Louisa home. Take my car." Ruth offered.

Martin paused in his rant and actually remembered to thank his aunt before driving off in the unfamiliar vehicle to pick up his wife. He was sorry that he had to leave James at Ruth's for the moment, as he didn't have a child seat in the Mercedes.

He pondered during the drive what he should tell Louisa. It was an awkward situation. Damn awkward.

How do you interact with someone who doesn't want to be with you? Who needs a break from you? And to top it all, by irresponsible behaviour you made it impossible for her to get away, to bring a thousand miles between her and you?

He couldn't offer her a thousand miles safety radius from him. He couldn't even promise her that she didn't have to see him. Both would be impossible.

His heart sank and he gulped, thinking of all the things he'd done to ruin things for her. How was it possible to destroy someone by loving her too much? It simply wasn't fair.

Life wasn't fair.

Life has never been fair to him, ever.

Why couldn't this end?

He scolded himself that he should stop thinking such nonsense. While he was driving, his thoughts should be on the road, nothing else. He had caused enough damage.

He forced himself to concentrate on his driving, which was difficult, as traffic on the B road ran smoothly. Finally he reached Truro hospital.

He parked on an empty spot near the entrance, marked as ' _For staff only'_. He didn't care. He never had.

He rushed onto the ward to collect Louisa. He threw the door open.

Louisa looked at him shocked, partly because she was startled by the door being thrown open. Mostly, she was shocked to be picked up by Martin.

 _To be continued…_


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

When the nurse had said they would call for her to be picked up, Louisa had assumed they meant a taxi. Now she realised that Martin must have been noted as next of kin, so the hospital naturally had informed him.

Louisa wasn't prepared for this, and what's more - she wasn't up to that encounter.

She felt rotten. The pain relief was on a lower dose, and she still felt a bit woozy and sore from head to toe from the accident, and disappointed to be in hospital instead of lying at a Spanish beach. To top it all, she felt frustrated and angry and sad and helpless and forlorn.

Not the best condition to be in if you had to confront Martin.

Faithful Martin.

Of course he must have realised that she was angry with him. She hadn't been very subtle about it and even he couldn't have misread her exodus to Spain.

The way he was standing in the door frame - arms stiffly at his side, fingers twitching, his head slightly cocked – but still, he did come.

Louisa looked at the clock. Afternoon hours at the surgery had just started. So what was he doing here?

The silence endured and grew almost into something bigger that they could bear. Two people spanning the space, which was filled with heavy silence, dragging them down.

Neither dared to speak. Neither knew what to say.

Finally, Louisa could bear the solemn quietude no longer.

"Well," she brushed a strand of hair away with her good arm, "I guess I can leave."

"Guess?"

"The doctor said so."

"Good. Do you have the instructions for further medication? Recommendations of what you can do? Medication?"

"They have given me a list."

"Did they talk you through it?"

"Yes, I suppose they have?"

"Suppose?"

"Yes, Martin. They have." Louisa answered a bit prickly.

"Louisa," Martin noticed her reluctance and saw his chance to help with his medical expertise, "after the operation you should be fine, basically, but there are several restrictions for the time being and you have to follow doctor's orders to a tee." Martin declared firmly.

Louisa's head wasn't up to this, not yet. She felt a twinge and her fingers touched her temple.

"Do you still have headaches?" Martin asked alarmed.

"I'm fine. The doctor says I'm fine."

"Louisa, if..."

"Martin, if you can't shut up, then call me a cab." Louisa warned him sharply.

Martin's fingers started twitching again and he cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Right. You're still uncomfortable, I presume."

"Like I've been run over by a truck, and I am not in the mood for one of your lectures." Louisa declared firmly and got up.

Martin jumped to her side, trying to support her getting up, but he was too late and bumped slightly against her arm. Thankfully the good one.

"Ouch!" Louisa would have loved to be able to rub her arm, but with her other arm in this stupid sling, she wasn't even able to do that. A tear rolled down her cheek, as she was overwhelmed by her sorry state.

"Sorry, I'm so sorry!" Martin felt so guilty again, for bumping against her arm and causing her even more pain, as well as making her cry again. His first impulse had been to touch her arm where he had hit it. However, he then remembered that Louisa wanted to have a break from him, so it probably wouldn't be right to touch her, he thought. So he was bent halfway down to her, his hand somewhere in the air between them, in the vague direction of her arm, but still not touching.

Louisa bit her lip watching this scene. It was almost comical, if it only wasn't her life. She realised that the small line between tragedy and comedy was often simply if you were involved yourself or if you were just a spectator.

" _That_ didn't hurt." she told him. "You don't have to be sorry for _that_." Their heads were close and she looked straight at him, and she choked on the sadness and desperation she saw in those eyes.

She realised once again what a shame it was that she couldn't just give him a cuddle and then talk things through and things would be fine.

But would things ever be fine between them? Could she stand it if they weren't? She also had a child to consider, after all.

"Let's go." She said curtly, as she didn't want to make a scene, which would have prolonged their encounter in the hospital.

Martin backed off and gathered the few things Louisa had with her. Just now he realised that her luggage had probably arrived at some Spanish airport by now, done a few rounds on the luggage carousel, just to be collected by airport staff afterwards.

As soon as they got home, he should look into the matter.

For now, he just carried a very tiny bag with mere necessities. With his other hand he tried to support Louisa, but she kept brushing him away, so he gave up after a fierce glare from his wife had made it abundantly clear that she wouldn't tolerate that at all.

After some last formalities at reception, they found themselves in the car park.

"Ruth's merc?" Louisa asked puzzled.

"Ah, yes."

"What happened to your car?"

"It's at the garage, apparently."

"Apparently?"

"Uhm...there was a little accident yesterday, when I tried to get out of the village."

"Accident?" Louisa groaned. "Not again!"

"Uh...nothing serious. Just the car needs...uh...mending."

"Lot of things do." Louisa whispered, while she stepped into the car while Martin held the door open for her courteously.

 _To be continued…_


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Soon they were on their way out of Truro. They sat silently next to each other. A hostile silence between them.

"Would you like the radio on?" Martin asked helplessly, when they were on the A road to Portwenn.

"I'm not bothered." Louisa replied sadly.

Both of them suddenly remembered the exact exchange they had a couple of years ago. Only it had been night-time then. Only it had been raining.

They both were startled by the realisation and after a second, turned their heads to look at each other.

They held their gaze for a fraction of a second, before Martin quickly turned his attention back on the road while Louisa looked down.

Both knew that the other one had remembered as well.

Both knew that the memory was painful to both of them.

It seemed that all the time that has passed, the turmoil, the tragic events, hadn't brought them any closer together. It just seemed that the things keeping them apart grew bigger and bigger.

If Louisa hadn't been so utterly depressed, she would have smiled at the thought that back then she had been offended by a little comment from Martin regarding her perfume. Compared to the elephant standing in the room now, that has been fiddlesticks.

"Are you comfortable?" Martin made another awkward attempt to break the silence. He was close to suffocating on it.

"Yes."

Another fragile plant of communication was killed immediately by the chilled atmosphere between them and lay tattered on the ground.

Martin swallowed hard. He needed help to get out of the corner he'd manoeuvred himself into all of his life, he needed Louisa's help, but he had no right to ask for her help, not anymore, not after all the broken glass.

"Are you bringing me to the surgery?" Louisa asked.

"Erm...yes. It seems the most logical place, especially for James."

"Yeah, you're probably right about James." Louisa sighed, dreading the thought of being back in the glum hermit's hut, shut away in coldness and remoteness. She shivered. "Doesn't matter anyhow anymore, I suppose."

Martin looked sadly towards her. Louisa had to look away. She couldn't bear it any longer.

She had always thought Martin's clumsiness, his shyness, his aloofness were off-putting. Now, she hardly noticed those now. What really got to her was his sadness, his insecurity and his helplessness.

If she just didn't care for him. It would make things so much easier. The rub though was that she did care for him, even loved him, very much, but she had to stand by and see him grow more and more unhappy, not knowing what to do to make it better.

Even worse, he was dragging her down with him into sadness.

"Don't worry, you..." Martin gulped. The words didn't want to come, but he had to say it. "...you don't...have to...stay...with me." His voice cracked and he shook his head slightly as if he was chasing away a bad dream. "I asked Ruth. I can stay with her." He finished quickly and firmly, to say what had to be said. To get the duty done.

"You mean, I shall live in your cottage, but you'd be staying somewhere else?" Louisa couldn't grasp this concept. "That would be..." Louisa shook her head. "...odd."'

"I just thought...you said...you needed a break...from us...me."

"But I was thinking of Spain."

"You won't be flying for a while."

"So I was told."

"Sorry."

"Mmh." Louisa cocked her head. She wished she had stayed on that plane. She wished she was a thousand miles away.

"I didn't know where to take you otherwise. You don't want to be at the surgery?"

"Does it matter?"

"Then tell me where you want to be." Martin offered.

Where she wanted to be? Louisa brushed away a tear that was again tickling in the corner of her eye. Where she wanted to be? She wanted to be back a couple of years. She wanted to be among family and friends. She wanted to be at home with a loving husband, she wanted to be where Martin couldn't take her.

"I'm tired. Surgery is fine."

"Good."

' _Good'_ wasn't exactly how Louisa would call it. It was far from being good. Actually, she felt she had hit rock bottom. Surely her life couldn't go more downhill than it had the last couple of months?

Louisa tried urgently to think of something good, as not to break down completely. There was one good thing in her life, that was for sure.

"Why didn't you bring James?" she asked as casually as she could.

"Child seat. The Mercedes hasn't got one."

Martin was right. Of course he was. Whenever he could rely on facts, he couldn't be beaten. If the world were a mosaic of logical facts, Martin would be master. Problem was, that little stupid things like emotions shook his logical world up. And then Martin was out of his depth. As much out of his depth as Mike had been when a red block was placed between the blue.

Louisa turned her head away and stared out of the window. Was the world suddenly going crazy? Or did she attract nutters like a magnet?

"James is still at Ruth's. I'll bring him over as soon as you've made yourself comfortable."

' _Comfortable? That could take a while._ ' Louisa thought grimly.

"We could stop at Ruth's and pick him up together." Louisa suggested.

Martin looked over concerned. "We still wouldn't have a child seat."

Gosh, Martin and his facts. Sometimes Louisa could throttle him.

"Besides, you'd better rest. You've been through a lot and your body needs rest to heal." Martin added.

' _Not just the body'_ , Louisa thought. There were some sore spots her soul had developed recently. Louisa had no idea yet how to let those heal.

 _To be continued…_


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

"Martin, I can't just stay at your place alone. I'll go crazy!"

"Uh…uhm…So what do you suggest?"

"I need to see people. _Normal_ people. People to have a laugh with. I…" Louisa covered her eyes with her hand. She had to fight the tears.

"Louisa, I don't think drinking alcohol is advisable with your current medication."

Louisa's head snapped around and her fury made her forget the tears for a moment. "Martin, to get that clear. You don't have to drink to have a good time. It's really a shame that you know _absolutely nothing_ about having a good time, but mostly it's enough to have someone to talk to, to laugh with. That sort of thing."

"Good. Then do that."

"How, Martin? How can I do that in your cottage?" Louisa sighed. "I'm not sure I'll have the energy to go out."

"Then invite them over to you, I don't see the problem." Martin stated matter-of-factly.

Louisa looked at him curiously. "You mean, you wouldn't mind?"

"Of course not!" Martin said with gusto. "What do you take me for? It's your home. Invite whomever you like."

Louisa was quiet for a moment. She had never thought of it that way. She had always presumed Martin would oppose her inviting people, but then again, he had never said so. Like so many things, they had never really talked about that.

"Uhm…probably not tonight. I guess I really have to rest. Maybe one of the next days, if you really don't mind." Louisa searched for signs of uneasiness in Martin, but he wasn't stiffer than usual. He just shrugged his shoulders in an awkward way.

Finally they turned into the road leading to the village. Martin was concentrating on his driving now. Louisa took the sight of her village in. It was strange. Although she lived here her entire life, the beauty of this spot always got to her.

When they passed the harbour, many villagers waved at her, giving her the thumbs up or signalled in any way that they were on her side. A whole village supported her. She should rely on that. She should never forget.

That was the way James should grow up – supported and feeling safe. Would it be possible with the kind of parents they were, if they couldn't build up a harmonious family?

Martin parked the car and then hurried around it to open the door for Louisa. Martin was so old-school in many ways.

When she had left for the airport – was it just yesterday – Martin really helped her to get to the taxi, although Louisa could see that he felt uncomfortable about her leaving. His old-fashioned manners didn't allow him to act otherwise.

Louisa let him help her. After all, it was the least he could do.

Louisa dreaded to enter the cottage. She didn't fancy all the pitiful looks of Martin's patients. Martin opened the front door for her and she slid carefully in, just to stop on the spot, astounded.

 _To be continued…_


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

"The waiting room's empty. What happened to your patients?" Louisa asked astonished.

"I cancelled all appointments for the rest of the week. It seems, I can get extra days off if there's an emergency in the family and I have to care for a child. Chris was very helpful."

Louisa spun around. "You cancelled appointments?"

"Uh…yes. It seemed…appropriate."

"You cancelled appointments because of _me_?"

"Yes," Martin replied a bit irritated, "Shouldn't I have cancelled them?"

"No, no it's fine. Actually, it's just…not like you."

"Maybe…" Martin looked at Louisa intensely. He wanted to say that maybe it was time for him to do things differently, to shift his priorities. However, he didn't even know if Louisa was willing to give their marriage a second chance, so Martin didn't want to make a fool of himself and kept his mouth shut. Instead he lifted Louisa's little bag. "I'd best put this away. I also need to pack some of my things, to take to Ruth."

"Yes."

"Do you want James to sleep in…your…room, or shall I place his bed back into James' room?" Martin asked, before he remembered that Louisa couldn't know about his mother leaving. At least that's what he thought. "Ah, yes, my mother has left. I suppose."

"I know." Louisa was still standing in the room a bit awkwardly, so she was almost glad that she had a chance to have something to talk about. "I met her at the airport."

"Ah." Martin nodded.

"You didn't really ask her to stay longer, did you?"

"Gawd, no!" Martin exclaimed, turning around to look at Louisa.

"I thought so." Louisa answered firmly.

"What gave you that idea?!"

"Your mother said so, but that doesn't mean a lot, I think. Sorry if I give the impression that your mother's a…" Louisa hesitated not to hurt Martin's feelings. It was his family, after all.

"…a liar." Martin finished, nodding.

"Sorry, but that's what I meant."

"She is." Martin confirmed.

"Actually, I don't think I like her very much." Louisa confessed.

"Completely understandable." Martin agreed. "She's not very likeable."

Louisa was astonished about Martin's blunt statement, even if she should be used to that by now, so she felt compelled to soften her opinion. "At least she came to tell you about your father's death in person." It has been the most positive Louisa could come up with.

"She didn't." Martin put straight. "There were…other…motives." He didn't want to upset Louisa, so he didn't want to reveal the true reason. He reckoned Louisa wouldn't take it lightly.

"What motives?" Louisa wasn't put off easily.

"We can discuss this when you're feeling better." Martin tried to win time.

"No, I'd really like to know. What motives?"

"You shouldn't get excited in your state. You've got to relax."

"Nothing your mother is doing or saying can have an influence on my opinion of her, as it is as bad as it can be already." Louisa assured Martin. "So, please, would you tell me why she visited?"

Martin breathed in deeply. "If you insist."

"I do."

"Right, actually, she wanted some money."

"Money? But it must have cost her a bit to come from Portugal to here. Why didn't she spare that money and use that?"

"We are talking of different sums of money." Martin rectified.

Louisa let this information sink in. After a moment she asked calmly. "So how much did she ask for?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Martin!" Louisa scolded him sternly.

"Right. 300,000 pounds."

"300,000?!" Louisa never encountered sums like that, unless for the school of course.

"She would have settled for 200,000." Martin corrected.

"That's outrageous."

"I know." Martin nodded.

"You couldn't possibly give her so much money! It's a fortune!"

Martin was a bit hurt by that comment, and needed to correct Louisa. "Of course I could have given her that money! Easily!"

"Martin, you didn't give her that money? It's that's why she left? Because she got what she wanted?" Louisa asked, more worried that Margaret would have taken advantage of Martin rather than the money itself.

"Of course I didn't give her the money!" Martin thought it was insulting that Louisa didn't give him credit for a bit more common sense. "I'm no fool!"

"Sorry, of course you're no fool, but sometimes just a bit too helpful."

"I have thrown her out! I made it abundantly clear that I never want to see her again, ever! That's why she left! I gave her the ultimatum that she had to be gone by the time I was back!"

Louisa looked at Martin. "Good. That's _very_ good. I'm glad." She nodded. "I am very sorry that I invited her to stay. If I had known her, known the kind of relationship you had with her…" Louisa's voice trailed off.

"Easily done." Martin tried to ease her worries.

"But then again, how was I to know if you never ever talk about yourself." Louisa rubbed her nose, feeling the same old frustration of the last months welling up inside of her.

Martin just stood there sheepishly.

Louisa realised that she wasn't up to a discussion on the scale that was building up, so she backtracked a bit.

"I suppose you also didn't give her the clock, then?" She asked instead.

"What clock?" Martin was puzzled.

"I thought so. I didn't believe her at all." Louisa confirmed.

"What clock?" Martin repeated his question.

"The mantel clock, the one you've been working on for months."

"What?" Martin asked a bit shocked. "Grandfather's clock? The one Aunty Joan had?"

"Yes, your mother had it with her. Told me you gave it to her as a parting present."

"That is _absolute_ nonsense. Why should I give a family heirloom to her! I was repairing it for James Henry!" Martin was really agitated.

"Martin, it's just a clock. If we never see her again, it's probably a small price to pay."

"But she stole it! She stole it from James!"

"You are absolutely right, but what do you want to do? Sue her?"

Martin's anger evaporated when he considered his options. "Probably not."

Louisa swallowed hard. "I'm sorry."

"But it's not your fault." Martin answered puzzled.

"I know, Martin, but I'm sorry for you. Sorry that your own mother would steal from you."

Martin shrugged his shoulders. "Better me than from anyone else."

"Maybe she shouldn't steal at all." Louisa concluded.

"That would be the most preferable situation." Martin replied innocently.

Louisa stood there, nodding, feeling sorry for Martin all over again. His parents didn't only mistreat him as a child, as far as she could tell by the few comments she had picked up, but even weren't above stealing from him. Louisa mused that her father, who was a convicted thief, wasn't so low as to steal from her. That this low thug had at least the decency to want to call his planned robbery off when he feared he could involve his daughter in it.

Still, pity wasn't a good basis for a relationship, and unless she could get their marriage on more solid ground, she shouldn't give in to getting together again. However, maybe, just _maybe_ , this insight, made her a bit more willing to try.

 _To be continued…_


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Louisa was rubbing her temples.

"I suppose you are tired?" Martin asked tentatively.

After the stressful confrontation about Martin's mother, both were in a way glad for some simple, practical conversation.

"Yeah, I am." Louisa nodded.

"Did you have lunch before they released you from hospital?"

"No."

Martin gestured awkwardly towards the oven. "Shall I prepare you something?"

"No, I'm not hungry."

"You should eat something. Something light at least. For your medication."

"I'll eat something later."

"I really think you should…"

"LATER." Louisa looked at Martin with fire in her eyes, determined to make him stop fussing. She needed time. Time to think. Time on her own.

She needed time away from Martin.

"I can come back and make sure…"

"I can manage." Louisa told him energetically, but then thought again and added a softer. "Thank you."

Martin's fingers twitched. He looked insecurely at his wife. "I'd better get some things then, so that you can rest."

"Yes."

Martin quickly ascended the stairs. If he had to vacate the premises, he had to do it quickly. It was hard enough. In his bedroom he stopped abruptly. Now he had to focus. He had to gather all his necessities, and he wasn't to forget anything. Otherwise he had to disturb Louisa in her space, and he didn't want to do that. He owed her the peace and quiet she needed to recover from the wounds he was responsible for.

He breathed in deeply for a moment and then went to work methodically. In his mind he retraced every step of his morning routine, quickly assembling all items he would need to get ready for the day. Within minutes he had packed his things from the bathroom and bedroom, putting a couple of spare suits into a trolley bag, and adding some of his books and journals for sleepless nights, of which he feared he'd have many.

He placed James's cot into Louisa's room, so that she had their son nearby and didn't have to go into another room to tend to him.

Finally he let his eyes wander over his own bedroom, in search of anything he might have missed. Realising he had sorted his affairs as well as it was possible under these circumstances, he heaved a sigh before carrying his trolley bag downstairs.

Louisa was still standing in the kitchen. Martin approached walking on eggshells.

"I'll be off then." He simply stated, fighting hard to keep his voice steady.

"James?" Louisa asked, and the sadness in her eyes made his heart ache.

"I thought I'd let you rest a bit. I will organise a nurse to support you. I'll bring James over later in the day." He didn't say that another reason for his planned return was his worries about how she was. He would have felt a lot better, if he had the chance to check her over.

"It's probably for the best." Louisa nodded. After a moment she added. "Yes, you're right. See you later then."

"I'll bring you something to eat."

"You don't need to bother." Louisa felt uneasy about his constant offers to help. She appreciated that he was giving her some space, but letting him do the housework for her when he had to find shelter somewhere else was strange. Very strange indeed,

For a moment, the couple stood in the kitchen, sadly looking at each other. Martin gathered all his strength and picked up his luggage. He didn't find any more excuses to linger, no matter how much he wished for it.

He was about to leave with his trolley bag, but before he reached the door he spun around. Quickly and breathlessly the words spluttered out of his mouth.

"Louisa, I know that you don't want to talk, and I understand. I really do. And I really don't want to discuss our…" his hands waved through the air, "…our…marriage. Not now. I know you do need rest." Martin breathed in deeply. "But there is one thing I need to know and I've got to know it now."

"Martin, please." Louisa touched her head as the pain was pounding behind her temple, which was more due to stress and tiredness than anything else. "I really don't want to talk to you now. I'm really not up to it."

"I just need _one_ bit of information. You don't have to explain anything. Please."

Louisa sighed. "I wanted to talk to you for _years_ , but you didn't want to. Now it's suddenly so important that it can't wait until tomorrow?"

"It can't wait. Just one question. I really need to know." Martin begged.

"Please, let me rest and we can talk tomorrow." Louisa felt the weight of the last couple of days and she was afraid she'd say something she might regret.

Martin breathed in deeply. He couldn't be stopped now. He simply needed to know.

"When you left for Spain, did you intend to come back?" Now the question was out in the open, unsheltered, without any chance to ever get it back. It had taken him all of his courage to get this point clear, but without this information, he didn't know how to continue.

"Of course I wouldn't have stayed in Spain forever. I would have had to be back for the new term. I've got a job." Louisa answered, the stress and some impatience clearly noticeable in her voice.

Martin shook his head. "That's not what I mean. I don't care about Spain. Were you leaving me for good?"

Louisa paused and restrained herself from looking into his panic stricken eyes. Finally she said lowly. "I don't know, Martin. I honestly don't know."

Against Louisa's expectations, Martin didn't protest or rant or seemed disappointed in any way. Quite the contrary. He straightened up and Louisa almost thought she detected a hint of hope in his eyes.

"So there is a possibility you would have come back?" He asked tentatively.

"I didn't know what I was doing. I can't really say."

"But there is a chance you might have come back? Theoretically?"

"Everything was possible, Martin, absolutely everything. Sorry that I can't say anything else, but that's the truth."

"That's absolutely fine. Absolutely." Martin declared, and it seemed to Louisa that he was almost content about her answer.

With determination he grabbed his trolley bag and before Louisa had a chance to understand what was going on, Martin was already out of the door, striding down the hill.

 _To be continued…_


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

"When I say immediately, I don't mean tomorrow!"

Ruth rolled her eyes hearing her nephew yelling into the speaker. Would he ever understand that he wouldn't get the things he wanted faster by just shouting louder? She doubted it.

"If I could take care of her, I wouldn't require your service immediately. That's obvious."

Ruth regretted that she could only hear Martin's side of the call. It would have been interesting to see the whole picture. Professionally speaking.

"Obvious to anyone with a brain! That doesn't include _you_! Blast!"

Only after a short pause Martin kept on yelling.

"I'll swear as much and as often as I like! I'm privately insured and I pay a good deal of fees. I do expect to get _some_ service in return!"

Ruth shook her head.

"Yes, you're bloody well right that I do feel entitled to a nurse for my injured wife. I _expect_ her to be at the surgery at Roscarrock Hill at 6pm _sharp!_ "

Martin really should do something about his temper. Otherwise Ruth saw little hope for his marriage.

"You want to know what happens if not?! Then you can explain to your management why a long-paying customer cancelled his insurance policy!"

Martin shut his mobile vigorously and stared at it with so much hatred as if the poor little device was to blame.

"That seemed to have gone swimmingly." Ruth added with a smirk.

"Outrageously funny." Martin snarled.

"Sit down, calm down, and then talk me through your plans." Ruth nodded towards the empty chair opposite her.

"Sorry, I have too much to organise." Martin was storming towards the door, before he turned around. "You can keep an eye on James?"

"By all means." Ruth sighed. "Do I have a choice?"

Martin nodded. "Thank you."

Ruth shook her head seeing Martin disappear into the hallway, grabbing his phone again.

In quick succession he called the car rental in Truro to inform them about the whereabouts of their car, giving them a clear assessment of their services.

Then he called the airline to inform them of the luggage that must have arrived at a Spanish airport while the passenger had to stay behind in England. He told them in no uncertain words that he expected the luggage to be back in England asap.

Then he called the garage to give them a piece of his mind regarding their lack of common sense to start repairing his car immediately and gave them until the next morning to get it sorted. As the mechanic didn't get a chance to speak at all, he couldn't tell his customer that there was no chance for the spare parts to be delivered in time.

Ruth listened to the vociferous voice at the other side of the door, which was only interrupted briefly when Martin dialled the next number. What she heard made her feel downhearted. There was a lot of work ahead of Martin. And a lot of work for the therapist. She just hoped Martin would show a more professional side to him. Otherwise the sessions would stop before they even started.

Ruth wondered how Martin could have survived until now with manners like that. She could sympathise with him in many ways, as she didn't take fools gladly either. Still, she had found that some conventional manners go a long way. But maybe her professional training helped her to cope with her demons. She was fully aware of her awkward social position, brought on by a loveless upbringing. She looked sympathetically towards the door behind which she heard her troubled nephew shout. If he wanted to succeed to save his marriage, many painful realisations lie ahead of him. She would give him all the support he'd needed. She really thought it was high time for him to tackle his demons. She also thought with the impeding failure of his marriage, he had the necessary incentive to make it. If he didn't make it now, he would never be able to sort himself out. She also knew that he would grow even grumpier, more unapproachable and unhappier if he lost Louisa. She didn't want to imagine his life if he didn't make it now. He was in quite a pickle.

She also knew that he was lashing out because he was deeply hurt and troubled and highly insecure. Just like her old customers at Broadmoor had lashed out to others. With a knife, usually.

At least Martin's only tools he used to hurt people were words.

Ruth smiled sadly.

At least she had given Margaret a piece of her mind when she had visited. She felt she had been in good form putting her sister-in-law in her place. She also wondered what had given Margaret the good sense to leave. Ruth looked over to the door. Did Martin finally throw her out? It would fit his state of mind. It would also be a good sign for his long way to recovery.

Ruth realised that Martin was talking in a lower, less agitated way now. She listened carefully to make out who he was talking to now.

She smiled satisfied to see that even at this stressful time he had one person he could make a civilised call to. There was hope after all.

She could make out that he was talking to Chris Parsons. Life makes strange bonds. Martin and Chris couldn't be more different if they tried to be, but something had kept their contact alive since medical school. Ruth never learned the cause of this bond, but given the fact that Chris was the only one Martin had kept contact with, there must have been something connecting them.

Hopefully the therapist she had recommended to Martin would learn about it.

Martin really needed help. Help she couldn't give. It was never a good idea to treat family members. When you were too close, you couldn't get a clear vision. Your shared memories and affection would always blur your vision.

She didn't know how Martin could have done it. Driving a blade into his beloved wife must have cost Martin superhuman discipline.

He would need the same discipline to cut away the layers of denial to lay bare the truth about his upbringing.

His comment rang in her ears about a "healthy upbringing". No wonder he was so muddled if he really believed that. A standard self-defence. It would hurt to let it down.

Ruth just hoped that Louisa would offer him the support he needed. Ruth wasn't totally convinced that Louisa had understood how troubled the man was she had married. She didn't doubt that Louisa thought she loved him. Ruth just didn't know if Louisa had understood the commitment it meant to truly love. If she ran away from him again…

Ruth smiled when she actually heard Martin thank Chris on the other side of the door. At least he found professional help in his colleague.

It took some minutes before she heard Martin speak again. Now he spoke in a professional tone, emotions completely shut out. He was making an appointment. He was making an appointment with the therapist Ruth had recommended.

Ruth sat back in her chair relieved. Martin was taking action. As it was always the case with Martin, he never did things by half. Within the last hour he had set more wheels into motion than others did in a week. Hopefully he could keep this momentum going.

The voice in the hallway became silent. Moments later, Martin came into the living room again. He looked exhausted as if he had run a mile.

"That's just my luck." He sighed.

"What is?" Ruth asked.

"Getting a quack called Quake."

 _To be continued…_


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Martin looked at the arm chair, where James was looking at him with his little head tilted. When he saw his father's imposing figure towering above him he broke into a toothless grin. Ruth noticed with silent satisfaction that Martin's strained expression softened.

"Are you hungry, James?" Martin asked his son softly, and Ruth found it difficult to recognise the harsh voice that was yelling into the speaker moments ago in the soft, tender voice that was now addressing his son. "Sorry you had to wait, but I had some really important calls to make. I need to make your Mum as comfortable as I possibly can. I owe her that much."

Ruth noticed for the umpteenth time how Martin talked to his son like he would do to an adult, only with more patience and care.

"I'll take him into the kitchen with me." He turned to Ruth.

"Right. I'll stay here and do my correspondence. I'm still getting some feedback from my book." Ruth walked over to her desk. "Maybe you should try it sometimes."

Martin gave her a blank look while he stepped out of the lounge towards the kitchen with his son.

Ruth kept herself busy. Actually, there was some quite interesting input from some of her colleagues regarding the one or other aspect in her book. There was even an email of one of her former pupils, which she remembered, and who was keen to get in contact again to consult her about some tough cases. In the mail was also an invitation to a conference in Italy. Her professional side immediately wanted to go, seeing the agenda and the speakers, who had already confirmed their talks. She looked towards the door. Martin would tell her what for. He was always worrying about her. About his whole family, for that matter. Actually, no one had ever cared for her as much as Martin had.

She got up and walked towards the kitchen. She stopped near the open door and looked at her great-nephew. Martin hadn't noticed her yet.

James had finished his meal and Martin had his son on his knees, facing him.

"Oh, James. I made a true mess of things with your Mum." Martin told his son confidentially. "I am responsible for her condition."

James gurgled.

"I didn't mean to, but that doesn't make it any better. I don't know why I did it. I just couldn't stand it any longer. I couldn't bear being among those horrid children at sport's day, all babbling and noisy. I knew it was important to Louisa that I was there, that's why I came in the first place. I let her down. Worse, I even harmed her."

Martin put his forehead against James'. Ruth watched silently.

"I just hope you'll never learn how that feels, harming the ones you love most, and not even knowing why you did it."

James laughed and flapped his little hand into Martin's face. Martin didn't explode, but ran his hand softly over James' head.

"I know, you wouldn't. It's just me…" Martin squeezed his eyes shut, while James grabbed one of Martin's ears.

Ruth shook her head sadly. Martin and his self-accusations. That wouldn't help.

Seeing the tender father and son scene in front of her, she couldn't help but curse her brother and sister-in-law. Martin's parents painted a picture of her son that everyone in the family believed. Even Martin. Well, except for Joanie, maybe. Bless her.

The general impression the family had gained and that Martin did his best to consolidate with his demeanour was that of an uncaring, cold, odd person, bordering on the pathological. If you'd confronted Martin with this view, he'd probably agree.

Still, Ruth saw more love in this little domestic scene in front of her than she'd seen in all the years Martin was little. Martin never had experienced as much care and understanding as he gave to his son this very minute. Ruth had to admit that she had been wrong. When Joan had told her excitedly about Martin becoming a father a little over a year ago, Ruth had predicted disaster. She thought no one was less suited to be a father than Martin was.

It wasn't her last mistake.

While she was quite capable in her profession, she was proud to say, and had made few mistakes during her working life, she had been wrong about Martin more than once. There was a good reason why you should never treat a relative. Your professional view is tainted by opinions that have been inflicted on you by your surroundings.

She had misjudged Martin terribly. Just like the whole village did. Just like Louisa did. Worst of all, just like Martin did himself.

The only one who probably saw Martin as he really was, was James.

If Louisa would leave Martin and take James with her, as she would, Ruth wasn't sure what would hurt Martin more, losing Louisa or losing James. She definitely worried about Martin if that would happen. She doubted he'd ever recover from that.

Father and son were still touching foreheads.

"James, I just don't know what to do about your Mum."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"James, I just don't know what to do about your Dad."

Louisa had tried to rest. That was what the doctor has ordered. What _Martin_ had ordered.

She knew when Martin was so firm about something, then it was the right thing to do. What Martin, or the doctor, never would understand, that people sometimes weren't able to do what was best for them.

Health wise, Martin would never make a slip. He was unbelievably disciplined when it came to anything medical. When he had caught a cold, he wouldn't let her anywhere near him, as she might catch a cold, too.

The cold he had given her had got nothing to with bugs, though.

The cold she was suffering from was his remoteness.

The only one who seemed to break this barrier seemed to be James.

Louisa remembered the farewell Martin had given his son when he had brought them to the taxi yesterday morning. Has it been just yesterday? Martin's and James' foreheads had touched and Martin had been whispering something to James. She couldn't hear what he had said.

That's why Louisa was sitting in James' room now. That's where she felt closest to Martin.

She had tried to lie in their bedroom before, but she had felt utterly lonely there.

To understand the turmoil within her she needed to understand that husband of hers.

She had tried to have a lie down, but her thoughts were keeping her occupied.

Within the last week, Martin had shown his worst side as well as his best. He was irritable, unable to understand her needs, uncommunicative, self-opinionated – but also caring, responsible, dependable.

She didn't want to miss the latter, but wasn't sure if she was prepared to put up with the former. Was it possible to get the good side of the deal without the bad?

Why had she defended Martin against the nasty things his mother has said, while she was leaving him?

But that's were the problems started. She didn't even know whether she was leaving him or not. She didn't want to do that to Martin, but being back in this house, _his_ house, started to suffocate her again. The whole atmosphere was depressing. Although everything was neat and tidy around here, everything was a mess. Or maybe because of it.

Was it possible to need a bit of untidiness? Martin would say ' _Rubbish'_ , as he always did when it opposed his own needs.

It was rarely possible to match his and her needs, but that's what she needed to do. Match her needs. And right now, she needed James.

 _To be continued…_


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

A car was approaching quickly. It came straight at her. She could see the fast approaching car, knowing what was bound to happen in a few seconds. A moment. Now.

She could see everything almost as in slow motion, but she couldn't move. As if was she was glued to the ground.

She was almost eye to eye with the driver now. She could see him. Recognise him.

Martin?

She felt the pain all over her body. Every muscle was aching, but none as much as her shoulder. Her shoulder hurt like hell.

Suddenly Martin ran towards her and the car. Where did he come from, she wondered? Shouldn't he be in the other car?

Martin ran straight at her. Martin would fix her. He had fixed everyone. If Martin would just reach her, everything would be alright.

Martin came nearer, jogging with long strides. She reached her hand out to him. He reached her...and passed her by?!

He didn't even look at her! His eyes were fixed to the driver's seat of the other car. Louisa suddenly couldn't make out who was behind the wheel anymore.

Martin pulled the door on the driver's side open and towered over the driver.

"You are late! You are _three_ minutes late! Explain yourself, woman!" Martin yelled, and Louisa couldn't understand. Had he ordered her to run her over? Or had she been run over because everything was too late?

"Aren't you too old?" She heard Martin's voice and shook her head. Martin never understood that there are things that you simply don't say. Rule number one, Martin, never tell a woman that she's old.

"I can expect better!" Martin yelled, and Louisa sat up in shock, wondering why a woman's age should be of any relevance to Martin.

She opened her eyes – and realised that she had fallen asleep in their bedroom after all. She tried to get a sense of time. She tried to figure out what was going on. It had been a strange dream. A disturbing dream.

"I'm paying good money!"

Or had it been no dream?

Louisa noticed the open window. She struggled to her feet. She had to sit on the edge of her bed for a moment to collect herself. Her head was spinning. She felt dizzy and sore. No wonder. She remembered the accident. The real one. And in a way it had been Martin who had run her over. Not as in driving the car, but in driving her to run across the street when he attempted to escape.

Thinking about it, that's what they had tried to do the last couple of days. Escaping each other.

When did it start? She wasn't sure, but maybe it had started the morning she had brought breakfast to his office, when he was giving her the cold shoulder. It had been the last straw, she didn't know what else to do to make things work. To make both ends meet. She had reached over from her end, but the other end withdrew, and she couldn't take it any longer.

From then on she tried to get away from Martin, if necessary to the other side of the continent. Just to end up in their bedroom again.

Louisa could hear the exchange outside the house through the open window.

"You're Dr. Ellingham." An unfamiliar female voice stated matter-of-fact, unimpressed by Martin's behaviour.

"Of course I am."

"I've heard about you."

 _'Ouch'_ , Louisa thought. Why did this husband of hers gain a bad reputation wherever he went? She wondered how far his reputation reached. Throughout the whole of Cornwall? Up to London? Throughout the whole of the UK? Or maybe even abroad? Martin didn't seem to mind, either way. But she did. She was sick and tired of the pitiful looks people gave her over her choice of husband. She hated to see the same question in all their eyes. ' _Why_?'

Louisa wasn't sure she could answer that question any longer. On her wedding day, she would have been able to answer it. Also on the day of Martin's first proposal, or after the night of Peter Cronk's emergency. There had been times when she could have answered this question, but they were few and far between. The times when she couldn't give a plausible explanation seemed to outweigh those moments, and they seemed to grow fewer.

"How old are you? 65?" Martin's lack of charm was unbearable to Louisa's ears and she picked herself up to go downstairs to apologise for her husband. Again.

"67 to be precise." The elder woman replied calmly.

"You should be retired." Martin stated with his usual lack of tact.

"I am. I'm just a stand-by in case of urgent cases coming in."

"Do you think you're up to the job at your age?"

"I was informed the client wasn't disabled."

"Of course she's not disabled! She's a young healthy woman who's just had an accident!"

Louisa hardly noticed Martin's last words, as she worked her way down the stairs, and strenuous work it was. All of her bones seemed to be aching.

Finally reaching the front door she forced her brightest smile unto her face, collecting all energy that was left in her battered body before opening the door and energetically stepping out.

"Louisa?! You should be resting!" Martin shouted as soon as he noticed her in the doorway.

Louisa ignored the warning words and rushed towards the unknown woman with her outstretched hand.

"Hello, I'm Louisa." She purred. "Louisa Ellingham." Louisa had cemented a broad smile on her face. Years of training during parent's nights finally paid off.

"Margaret McMullen." The elder woman in uniform replied. "I was hired to help you with your..." the day carer nodded towards Louisa's arm in a sling.

"Oh, that's so nice of you." Louisa gushed.

"I'm insured. That's what she's paid to do." Martin grunted.

Louisa shot him a dark look. "I've got to apologise for Martin." Louisa told the stranger as cheerfully as she could.

"I don't need anyone to apologise for me." Martin interrupted, but Louisa continued, both in talking and looking daggers at him.

"It's been a difficult time for my husband, too. He always makes a terrible fuss when anything happens to any of us." Louisa touched James's cheek, and the little fellow immediately reached out to his mum.

"I do not." Martin protested, "Besides, it's irrelevant for her work anyhow. The question is," Martin continued addressing the carer, "whether you're up to the job."

"Dr Ellingham," The nurse addressed him resolutely, "I might not be as young as I used to be, as you so gallantly remarked, but that also means that I've got lots of experience. I've probably done my job for longer than you've been doing yours. You informed the insurance company on very short notice. Actually, they do not just wait for you to order a nurse. Right now we are fully booked. For cases like this I've offered to help out. Actually, I do not need to be doing this. I'm just doing you a favour. If you prefer not to use my services, why don't you care for your wife yourself and I'll go back to _my_ family?"

"I'm sure we will get along just fine." Louisa smiled genuinely now, leading the elder woman into the house.

 _To be continued…_


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Martin instructed the nurse thoroughly, who endured his lecture unimpressed. She was counting on her experience and she knew what she was doing. She didn't need a doctor to tell her how to do her job. Besides, she had already figured out that her main contact person would be Louisa, and it looked as if she was easy to get along with.

When Martin had finished, he bellowed "Do you understand?"

Margaret McMullen just replied stoically. "As I said before, I've been doing my job for quite a while now and this isn't the most difficult job I've ever had by far. It's pretty straightforward. I understand your concern about your wife, but trust me, she's in good hands, as long as you let me do the job undisturbed."

Louisa loved Margaret for being unimpressed by her husband's behaviour. She felt with her by her side, she would be able to face what life was about to throw at her in the next couple of weeks.

Martin looked a bit indignant, but seeing the warning look Louisa was giving him, he kept quiet like a petulant child. "I'm preparing tea." He declared and stomped off into the direction of the kitchen.

"Margaret, you're joining us for tea, aren't you." Louisa gushed. Martin stopped in his tracks and his head snapped in the direction of the two women.

"I insist." Louisa added, looking sternly at Martin.

"That would be lovely. Thanks a lot." The nurse confirmed. Martin sighed.

When Martin had disappeared into the kitchen, Louisa led Margaret up the stairs to get her acquainted with everything.

"I'm sorry about Martin's behaviour." She told the nurse confidentially when they reached upstairs. "He can be quite rude."

"Don't worry, dear." The nurse assured her. "He's a doctor. They can be a bit of a bully at times. I always wondered if dealing with life-and-death situations makes it necessary to be so full of yourself."

"A bit of friendliness costs nothing, that's what I say."

"Yeah, true."

"Here's the master," Louisa opened the door to their bedroom just for a short time before proceeding, "and next to the master, this little room is usually James's room, but as James will be staying with me in the master, you can use it if you need to rest. There's a small bed that Martin can put up."

"I don't really need a room. I will only be here for a couple of hours, and I never it's a good idea not to intrude too much into family life."

"Oh, Jamie wouldn't mind." Louisa smiled.

"No I mean generally, besides, that wasn't the one I was expecting to object anyway." The nurse smiled.

"Ah, you don't need to worry about Martin, if that's what you mean."

"Actually, in my experience, many doctors need some privacy after seeing loads of moaning people all day long."

"Momentarily he's not staying here."

"But he's just preparing tea."

"I know. What I mean…I mean…He'll be here during surgery hours and a he'll probably spend some time with James, but most of the time, he won't be here."

The nurse looked at Louisa quizzically.

"It's complicated." Louisa said a bit testily. She was not willing to justify her living arrangements to a complete stranger.

"O-kay." The nurse said slowly.

Just then Martin yelled from downstairs that tea was ready.

Martin had laid the table. Hearing the two women descending the stairs, he picked up James from the playpen he had been playing in.

A moment later, Louisa and Margaret came down the stairs, chatting away happily.

"The cod is just coming out of the oven. Be careful. It will still be hot." Martin informed Louisa as soon as she came into the kitchen.

Two plates were opposite each other, each filled with spinach, beet root and a piece of cod neatly placed on top. A glass of water next to the plate was accompanied on Louisa's side by a little pill box with her necessary medication.

"I just told you that Margaret would join us." Louisa declared firmly.

"James has already had his meal. I'm going to bath him and then put him to bed. I hope he won't mind going to sleep a little earlier than usual." Martin continued, seemingly not taking any notice of Louisa's remark. Martin wasn't up to any discussions. He just needed to organise everything so that Louisa had no work to do and could rest.

"But the food will be cold by then." Louisa replied shaking her head. "I'll just get another plate. I bet there will be plenty for the three of us. "

"I'm not hungry." Martin said firmly, while bouncing James on his arm. "Let's run a nice warm bath for you, James."

Martin quickly disappeared upstairs.

"MARTIN!" Louisa yelled after her husband, but immediately her hand went up to her head, as it started hurting.

Margaret was at her side immediately. "Do you have any pain?"

Louisa sighed and nodded into the direction of the stairs. "You mean beside that pain in the backside?"

The nurse chuckled. "Actually, I meant those at the opposite end, _your_ opposite end. How's your head?"

"Nothing that a couple of hours out of his presence couldn't cure." Louisa had to fight her tears. "Let's eat before it gets cold."

.

Louisa was poking at her plate, nibbling at the food without much conviction, while the nurse was tucking in heartily.

"You should eat," Margaret pointed with her knife towards Louisa's plate, "it's delicious. Besides, it'll help you recover."

Louisa looked up at the woman opposite her quizzically.

"Spinach is rich in minerals and vitamins, so is beet root, which is also quite rich in iron and therefore…."

"STOP!" Louisa almost shouted. "You sound just like…Martin." Louisa had to dab her eyes.

"Uhm, yes…I…" Speaking of the devil, the man himself was just appearing in the door just when his name was mentioned, "I…just wanted to say that James is tucked up in bed. I'll be back to prepare breakfast. Make sure to have your mobile charged and in easy reach. If you should need anything during the night, just give me a call."

Martin went to his kitchen door, opened it, but stopped before stepping out. "Good night." He mumbled, before going out into the cool evening air.

"He's gone." Louisa stated, starting to push the spinach on her plate hither and thither.

"At least you kept your house when you married." Margaret tried to lift the spirit of her client. "So you two can avoid each other when need be."

"This is Martin's cottage." Louisa suddenly felt displaced, with no place of her own to go to. She had to fight her tears.

Margaret put her fork and knife down and looked at her patient in disbelief. "You mean…" She turned around. "So where's he going?"

"His aunt's place." Louisa managed to say quietly.

"Sorry, I'm a bit thick tonight. You mean, he cooked your meal, while paying attention that everything on the plate helps your recovery, bathed your child, put your child to bed and then leaves _his_ cottage so…yeah, why _does_ he do it?"

"It's not just _my_ child!" Louisa retorted firmly, now taking up the cutlery with more conviction. "And I don't think it's any of _your_ business."

Margaret noticed how her sympathy started to shift. Yes, Louisa had been very welcoming, and yes, she seemed to be nice company as long as Margaret hadn't questioned her point of view. However, she had cared for women who had been treated far worse by their partners and could still stand their presence. Margaret tried to be fair, and she had to admit that she had only seen a small glimpse of their relationship. Still, she would be more careful in taking sides in the future.

 _To be continued…_


End file.
